


Golden Slumbers

by ala



Series: Lokisson [2]
Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ala/pseuds/ala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleep pretty darling do not cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Slumbers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barkour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/gifts).



> For Memlu, on her 24th birthday (it's still the 9th somewhere!). So Happy Birthday Memlu! Here is some Sif/Loki fic!
> 
> Can be seen as a sort-of sequel to [Alternate Uses for Leftovers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/230127) but it is completely unnecessary to read that one first.
> 
> Not betaed, so all mistakes are mine.

The sound of crying cut again through the once peaceful stillness of the palace. Courtiers and servants winced, and quickly did their best to get away from the noise. Their attempts were futile; the cries of the half-Jotun prince could not be avoided. Even Odin temporarily abandoned his golden hall on the pretext of visiting his subjects. He remembered the endless crying jags of his sons’ infancies and knew that it was unlikely those of his grandson would be any different.

The grandson in question would not stop crying. It had been over a day and still Ullr continued to whimper, howl, wail, and fuss. It seemed he was upset about something and refused to rest until he was appeased, and Sif was at a loss. Sif, who had faced down monsters twice her size, Sif, who had attacked the Destroyer armed only with her sword and will, Sif--who had always prided herself on being strong and not given to tears--was ready to cry herself.

She had tried everything she could think of but it was all useless. He barely stopped whimpering long enough to eat. He was kept clean and dry. He was not teething. She bundled him up and carried him: no noticeable effect. She lay him down and let him be; if anything the wails grew louder. She tried rocking, walking, rubbing his back, using toys and even the little rubber pacifier that Jane had given him, all to no avail.

“When Thor and Loki were fussy as infants Odin used to give them chamomile tea,” Frigga confided, “although I found a bit of mead was much more effective.” Asgard’s stately queen brought with her a cup of each when she went to visit her daughter-in-law and grandson.

The women tried to get the baby to swallow a few sips of the drinks. For their efforts they were both rewarded with sticky baby spit down the front of their dresses. Sensing that Sif was at the end of her rope, Frigga offered to take the baby for a few hours in order to let Sif get some rest. Rather than take the sleep her body so desperately craved, she lay awake for hours agonizing over her child’s unhappiness. His every cry reached her in the next room over, until she couldn’t take it anymore and dragged herself from the bed.

Proving that they were indeed brave warriors, the Warriors Three came and visited. Not even time with his pseudo-uncles calmed Ullr down; Fandral’s goatee and Hogun’s nose had lost all appeal for the baby. Volstagg suggested that she take Ullr for a walk as it was the only way his daughter Hildy would fall asleep. Considering his brood of six (or was it eight?) children Sif gamely took his advice as valid and walked around the palace. She met no one on her travels; they all took off when they heard Ullr’s cries get nearer.

In desperation she carried Ullr to the stables. His wails startled even the hardiest of Asgard’s warhorses. Only Sleipnir lifted his heavy head over the stall door to peacefully observe the noisy thing that had invaded his home. Sif brought Ullr closer to the massive stallion, and Sleipnir leaned over to whuff soft breaths against the baby’s face. For a moment Ullr quieted as he stared up in wonderment at the horse’s large brown eyes and flailed his hand in an uncoordinated attempt to touch the velvety muzzle. Sensing that the child was not food, Sleipnir grew bored and pulled his head back into his stall to munch contentedly on his hay. Immediately Ullr scrunched up his face again and let out a mighty sob.

After they left the stables Sif took him to the end of the rebuilt Bifrost to visit Heimdall. They were there only about ten minutes when Heimdall noted, in his deep, rumbling voice, that Ullr’s crying was interfering with the sounds of the universe to which he was charged with listening. Sif took the hint and left her brother to his observations, taking Ullr’s wails with her. They returned to the palace, Ullr with tears streaming down his chubby cheeks and Sif utterly defeated and feeling utterly alone.

Almost as much as she desired Ullr to calm down and sleep, she wanted Loki to be with them. Loki always got him to sleep; he had taken to fatherhood in much the same way he had taken to magic. Tantrums and baby messes never fazed him, and he always managed to get Ullr to sleep with a minimum of fuss, even when the baby was at his most cranky. It had become his unofficial duty to wake up in the night when Ullr did and soothe him back to sleep.

Not for the first time did Sif wonder if he used some sort of spell to get the infant to rest. At this point she didn’t care; she would gladly let Loki ensorcel their child if it meant all could get some sleep. However Loki was on Earth aiding Thor and the Avengers against some magical entity threatening that world. He could hardly be recalled because Sif could not get her own child to sleep.

It was moments like these that self-doubt crept into her mind and chipped away at her self-confidence. Sif had succeeded at everything she’d ever set her mind to, from becoming one of Asgard’s best warriors to seducing the sly second prince who she had secretly loved for years. But this was different. This was her child and raising him was perhaps the most important thing she had ever attempted, yet two months in and she was beginning to suspect she was a failure. What good was the knowledge of how to best slay one’s enemy when the task was to get one’s own child to sleep?  

Ever one for perfect timing, Loki chose this low point to enter their chambers, smelling of the Bifrost and magic and the faintest hint of smoke. He took in Sif, glaring at him with bleary eyes and holding a fussy baby, and stopped short.

“He won’t sleep. How do _you_ get him to sleep?” Sif greeted him accusingly. She channeled all her self-doubt and frustration into a look that would surely have turned any other man (god or not) to ice. Luckily for her and Loki she loved a frost giant.

Color tinted his cheekbones. He reached down to give her a kiss and took Ullr from her. In her exhausted state Sif was inordinately pleased to see that Ullr still fussed and squirmed in his father’s arms. She waited for the secret to getting their little princeling to sleep. Loki took an unusually long time to adjust Ullr’s vest before meeting Sif’s expectant gaze.

“I sing,” he finally admitted.

Sif’s jaw dropped. “You mean I could have avoided nearly _two days_ of this if I only _sang_ to him?”

Loki raised a sardonic brow. Sif’s singing voice strongly resembled armor left to rust in the rain.

“Maybe not,” Sif amended, “but Frigga sang to him, all of the old lullabies, and it made not one whit of difference.”

“Well he seems to like it when I sing a particular song. “

Sif hit her head back against the soft back of the chaise and closed her eyes. “Well then,” she gave a regal wave, “serenade us.”

There was a period in which only Ullr’s soft whimpers could be heard. For a moment Sif thought that Loki was too embarrassed to sing in front of her. She was about to suggest she leave when he softly began to sing:

“Once there was a way to get back homeward, once there was a way to get back home...”

Sif lifted one eyelid open at the words. It wasn’t a song she had heard before; perhaps it was something he had picked up from his time on Earth?

“...sleep pretty darling do not cry...’

Regardless, it seemed to be working, as Ullr slowly quieted and drifted off to sleep.

“...and I will sing a lullaby.”

Sif took one last look at the two loves of her life, rested her head back, and slept.

**Author's Note:**

> I have limited experience with infants, so if any parents out there want to give constructive criticism I would greatly appreciate it.
> 
> The bit about Odin and chamomile (and indirectly Frigga and mead) was inspired by this [comic](http://brat-halla.com/comic/5-the-search-for-ultimate-wisdom/). Brat-Halla is nothing like the Marvel universe but it is still very entertaining, especially if you are a fan of any mythological pantheon.
> 
> The Beatles wrote and originally sang "Golden Slumbers," but as Paul sort of yells during their recording I don't think it'd make a very good lullaby. I prefer the Ben Folds cover, which can be found [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bs84xzJsK_Y).


End file.
